by Nikki Wild
Gingerly, I reached for my fork, bringing it to my lips, the spaghetti dangling below it. It slid between my lips, my eyes wide with anticipation as I carefully pulled the pasta from the fork and swallowed it. I took a deep breath and tried to relax.
Maybe he just butt-zapped me, like a butt-dial, I thought. I laughed out loud, as I shook my head. I couldn’t remember any of the book boyfriends in my book ever having a remote control butt plug. Bear was so much more adventurous and exciting than any of those toe-curling fantasy men I’d read about.
He was mine.
And I was his.
It was truly beautiful and magical. The fact that it was completely untraditional and he was unlike any man I’d ever known just made it even better.
I managed to get two more bites in my mouth before he zapped me again.
ZAP!!! ZAPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP! ZAPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!
“Oh!” I cried out loud, jumping from my seat, the force of the vibrations literally projecting me upwards. All eyes turned my way and I sat back down quickly, wincing as the plug pushed further inside of me.
Dammit! I thought, as I cast my gaze downward to avoid the curious glances. My pussy was pulsing, the sheer force of the latest zaps waking up every inch of my body. I thought of Bear, of his amazingly skillful cock, his mouth, his fingers, his everything, all over me, inside of me, kissing me, caressing me and I was suddenly on fire. I grabbed my cell phone and sent him a quick text.
‘You’re killing me!’ I texted.
I took a few more bites of pasta and tried to avoid the eyes of everyone else in the restaurant. A few minutes later, he replied.
‘You love it, my little slut!’
My pussy pulsed in pleasure when I read his words. He knew how to get to me.
‘I want the real thing.’ I texted back.
‘This will have to do for now, Beauty.’ he replied.
I frowned and was just about to text back when I felt the vibrator go off again.
Zap! Zap! Zap! Zaaapppp! Zappppppppp! ZAPPPPPPPP! ZAPPPPPPPPPPPP! ZAAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPPP!!!!!!!
“AH!” I cried out loud, an orgasm ripping through me again like a freight train. I gripped the table, my body taking over every sense of decorum that I may have possessed.
“Ohhhhh!” I shuddered, my head falling back as my eyes rolled into the back of my head. I panted, gasping for breath as the vibrator kept going.
ZAPPPPPPPPPPPPP!!!! ZAP! ZAP! ZAP! ZAP! ZAP!!!!!
I lost it completely, practically melting into my seat as I squirmed, my pussy soaked, my juices flowing down my leg since I was never allowed to wearing fucking panties again. If I hadn’t felt so fucking amazing, I would have silently cursed Bear for all he was doing.
I sat frozen in place for a few moments, willfully ignoring everyone around me. I pretended I didn’t hear the murmurs and giggles and took a deep breath before finishing my pasta and wine.
I paid my bill and walked out, holding my head high the whole way.
I didn’t care one bit what anyone thought of me. I was going to be Mrs. Bear Dalton and that was the only thing that mattered. I walked past the whispering patrons, avoiding their accusing glances.
I was three steps away from the door when he zapped me again.
ZAPPPPPPPPP!!!!!
My knees buckled again but I managed to stay upright. A passing waiter grabbed my elbow, helping to steady ma’am.
“Ma’am, are you okay?” he asked.
“I’m excellent,” I said, flashing him a shaky smile on my way out.
The third shop was called Vixen and it was too far away to walk so I took another taxi. This time, the taxi ride took a while and I sat in the back, discretely wiping the wetness from my legs before getting out.
By the time we arrived, I was fresh and dry once more, and I hoped like hell I could make it through this visit without Bear zapping me again.
I should have known better.
Vixen was in a very upscale neighborhood. Everything was white, except the merchandise which seemed to be all pink and black. I felt like I’d walked into a box of candy or something. I was standing in the middle of the store, taking it all in, when I realized that the design of the store was just as prominent as the fashion and it had been that way with the other two stores, as well.
I didn’t want my store to be about that. I wanted the focus to be on why you were there in the first place—the clothes. I made a vow to do just that as I made my way around the store, pulling out random shirts and skirts and admiring them.
When I saw the price tag on a dress, my heart skipped a beat. It was a plain, wrap-around cotton dress and they were asking forty-six hundred dollars for it. I pushed it back on the rack quickly, hoping I didn’t have any pasta sauce left on my hands.
I walked up to the front of the store and was greeted by a fashionable older lady. She looked a little like Anna Wintour with her huge glasses and long scrawny limbs.
“Hello, dear,” she said, looking down her nose at me. She was at least six feet tall and she towered over me. Her thin lips were leaking red lipstick down the cracks that seemed to spread more when she smiled at me.
“Hello, ma’am,” I replied.
“Can I help you with anything?” she asked, her frosty smile reminding me of my mother.
“Yes,” I said, reaching out a hand. “I’m Chloe McDonnell.”
“Hello, Chloe, aren’t you a lovely girl?”
“Oh, well, thank you,” I blushed. “Is this your store?”
“Oh, heavens to Betsy, no,” she said. “I just work here.”
“I see,” I said. “I was hoping to talk to the owner or a buyer. I’m a designer and I was hoping to show them some of my work and get some feedback.”
“You must be new to town,” she said.
“Yes, I am,” I said.
“I can tell,” she said, eyeing me up and down. “Darling, where are you from? Kansas? Oklahoma?”
“No, ma’am, Oregon,” I replied.
She nodded knowingly, arching a brow. “Same thing.”
“Actually, I’m from Portland,” I said.
“Portland, huh? Home of all those stoned hipsters who only eat organic kale?”
“Something like that, I guess,” I smiled. I hated the stereotypes that had recently popped up about my hometown, but it was hard to deny them at the same time. If I had a nickel for every time one of my friends refused imbibing anything that wasn’t free-range, organic, or vegan, I’d be as rich as Bear.
“So you’re a designer, huh?” she asked, determined to sink the knife a little deeper. “Do you only use vintage, recycled fabrics, too?”
“Well, yes, I favor recycling and upcycling, as well,” I nodded. “Nothing wrong with trying to save the Earth,” I said, raising a hand in a little fist pump.
She paused, staring at me thoughtfully.
“You’re cute,” she said, “I like you.”
“Thank you?” I said, the words coming out a question. I wasn’t sure about this woman. She was frosty at first, but she seemed to be warming up to me. Maybe I would get some better feed back from her. “Maybe I can show you my designs?”
“Me? Why?” she asked.
“I’m always seeking feedback,” I said. “And you seem to be pretty savvy.”
“Savvy, huh?” she said, laughing. “Okay, what have you got?”
“Thank you!” I said, pulling out my portfolio. She took it from my hands, looking it over carefully.
“These are good,” she said. “Really fucking good.”
My eyes widened to hear a woman like her use profanity. It made me like her even more.
“How long have you been at it?” she asked.
“A few years,” I replied. “I’m hoping to open my own store soon.”
She looked up at me and squinted.
“Darling, you know how expensive that is?” she asked.
“Yes, but…I have an…investor,” I said, raising my chin. It fell when she looked at my
ring.
“You mean sugar daddy?” she asked, lifting a weary eyebrow.
“No!” I cried, blushing.
“How old are you, Chloe?” she asked. “Early twenty-five, twenty-six?”
“Yes,” I said.
“And you’re married?”
“No, engaged.”
“Too soon,” she said.
“What?” I asked, my eyes wide.
“It’s too soon. You’re too young to be getting married. You’re too young to be opening your own store, even if your rich, probably very controlling hubby is paying for it. You have to get out! Live a little! Enjoy your youth!” she said, lowering her voice to a conspiratory whisper. “It’s fleeting, let me tell you!”
“I know,” I nodded. “But I don’t think I’m too—.”
“—Yes, you are!” she insisted, handing me my book back.
“Go get a job, love,” she said. “Work your way up the ranks, just like we all have to. Make it on your own, don’t depend on a man to hold you up because, darling, they’ll always let you down.”
I was stunned. Speechless, I nodded, grabbing my portfolio and dress and turning to walk out. I made it to the door before she yelled after me.
“Come back and see me sometime, Chloe!”
I nodded and opened the door, rushing out into the cold, my hands shaking. I stopped outside the door, reeling inside.
Her words had cut right through me.
Was that what I was doing? Depending on a man? Was I too young? Was this too fast? It was certainly fast, there was no denying it.
I wanted to be angry at her. I wanted to go back in and yell at her but I felt like she’d ripped the clothes right off of my back and exposed me completely.
No, I thought, she doesn’t know what she’s talking about. She’s wrong. I love Bear. Bear loves me. I’m not depending on him. He’s not controlling me at all.
I made it two steps away from the door when I felt the jolt.
ZAPPPPPP!!!
Chapter 17
Levi’s eyes were the lightest brightest green I’d ever seen. Little yellow flecks shimmered like gold in them. His long, dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail at the nape of his neck, curling around the collar of his shirt. He was dressed casually, in dark jeans and a button down black suit shirt that was rolled up at the sleeves, exposing his muscular forearms. The curl of a tattoo peeked out, leaving me wanting to pull his shirt up to see what it was.
But I didn’t.
Because this was business.
And I was taken.
And despite the fact that I’d not mentioned to my fiancé that I was having lunch with another man, a man he wasn’t too fond of, I was still a good girl.
That didn’t keep me from fantasizing a little, though.
I’d have to be dead to not notice how handsome and sexy Levi was. And, as Bear had so wonderfully shown me, I was far from dead.
What I was, was motivated.
More than I’d been yesterday, when I’d gone to those shops. I’d left the last one plagued with confusion and self-doubt once more. Thankfully, those feelings had passed, quickly growing into indignation and righteousness and then sweet, sweet motivation.
I’d Show Them!
That was my new motto. I’d put Just Say Yes on the back burner and had graduated to more of a ‘I can do it’ attitude. So far, so good.
I’d called Levi when I got home, full of gratitude when I heard his reassuring voice on the other end. He’d agreed to meet me for lunch the next day and here we were.
Vinnie’s Deli was near my apartment and we’d been lucky enough to grab a quiet booth in the corner.
“I’m so glad you called,” he said, leaning over and putting his hand over my mine. I shivered at his touch. Immediately, I felt guilty, but I pushed it away as fast as I could. This was business.
“Thank you for meeting with me,” I smiled. “If it’s okay, I’d like to show you my portfolio.”
“Of course!” he said, his smile lighting up his face. “I can’t wait to see them.”
“I know you must be so busy,” I said.
“I am, but I always have time to look at fresh talent,” he said.
“That’s very nice of you,” I said. “I hope you like it.”
I began unzipping my portfolio to pull out my sketch book.
“Wait, wait, Chloe,” he said, shaking his head. “We have plenty of time for that. First, I want to get to know you.”
“Me?” I said.
“Yes, tell me all about you. All I know is that you are a designer, who,” he looked at my ring, “is engaged to Bear Dalton, of all people. Surely there is more to you than that.”
“Oh,” I said, searching my mind for something else to tell him. I came up empty. “I’m from Portland…” I said, my voice trailing off.
“And?”
“And, um, I have a degree from Portland State,” I said.
“And what brings you to New York?” he asked.
“I came because—well, I was, um…”
Shit! I’d not expected these questions. I had no idea how to answer them without the answers seeming completely scandalous.
I came here because Bear forced me to?
I came here because I was following the hottest, sexiest, most fulfilling and skilled cock I’d ever come across?
How was I ever supposed to answer that?
“My mother!” I blurted out, something respectable finally popping in my head.
“Your mother?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Yes, my mother was moving here and she asked me to join her.”
“Oh, how nice. So the two of you must be really close?”
“Sure,” I lied, nodding and hoping the smile on my face didn’t look just like Mom’s.
“I’ve never been to Portland,” he said. “I’ve heard it’s beautiful.”
“It is,” I nodded. Suddenly, I wanted to hurry this up. I wanted to show him my designs and get back to the isolation of my apartment, where there wasn’t anybody asking questions I didn’t know how to answer.
“Where are you from?” I asked.
“Born and raised right here,” he said. “Why are you marrying Bear?”
I blinked at his question. But that was an easy one to answer.
“Because we love each other.”
“Love?” he asked. “How noble. I didn’t realize Bear was capable of love.”
“No?”
“No. He’s not the type to get pinned down, if you know what I mean.”
“I’m not planning on pinning him down in anyway,” I said, my chin rising defensively.
“That probably explains it,” he nodded.
“Explains what?” I said.
“The fact that there’s a ring on your finger. Up till now, Bear’s not been the marrying type.”
“I’ve heard,” I said, thinking of Zoe and cringing as her words ran through my mind again.
Bear Dalton will eat you alive.
“So,” Levi said, digging into his meatball sandwich, “how long have you been designing?”
I breathed a sigh of relief as I realized the interrogation about my personal life was over.
“A few years,” I said, pulling out the portfolio once more.
He took it from me, thumbing through quickly.
“These are really great,” he said.
“Thank you,” I smiled. I took a bite of my minestrone soup and watched him look through them. He seemed genuinely pleased and it thrilled me.
“Lovely stuff,” he said. “Have you shown these to anyone else?”
“I tried, yesterday. I tried going around to some shops, but I didn’t get the best reception.”
“Well, they aren’t your usual New York fare, but I think there’s something special going on here.”
“That’s so nice of you to say,” I replied. “Eventually, I’ll open my own shop, but I am just trying to build up my inventory first.”
“Your own sh
op?” he asked.
“Yes, Bear’s going to help me.”
“What does Bear know about fashion?” he asked.
“Well, nothing, but he’s helping in other ways.”
“Oh, he’s giving you the money, of course, I see. You’re getting married, of course he’s giving you the money.”
“Well, yes, but I know that this isn’t just about the money. It’s a lot of hard work, and like you said the other night, it’s who you know. That’s why I wanted to meet with you. I was hoping you could give me advice on how to get started and if I should go in a different direction.”
“I may be able to help you in another way.”
“How so?”
“Have you thought about joining up with an already established, well-known label? It’s all the rage these days for old fashion houses to take on some young, unknown up and comer and give them their own lines.”
“Well, goodness, no, I hadn’t thought of anything like that. I was thinking much smaller than that. Just a tiny store with my own creations.”
“You should dream bigger,” he said. “If you went with a bigger house, then you wouldn’t need help from your fiancé.”
I paused, taking a deep breath.
“Well, I don’t think any big house would be interested in my stuff.”
“I do.”
“That’s very nice of you to say, Levi, but I don’t—.”
“—It’s my job, Chloe,” he said, putting his hand over mine. I felt that same shiver return again and I pulled away. “I pride myself on the ability to recognize good stuff. That’s why they pay me the big bucks!”
“Well, thank you,” I said, trying not to blush.
“Tell you what. Let me take your designs to my boss at Armani.”
“What?! No, Levi, you don’t have to…” I shook my head in protest.
“Hush!” he said. “I like your stuff. It has great potential. It’s young and fresh and hip and unique, but still clean and classic at the same time. It’s everything I’m looking for, honestly.”
“Levi…” I shook my head in disbelief.
“I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t believe in you, Chloe.” His eyes peered deeply into mine and I felt a familiar stirring between my legs.
